


A safe place

by A_Million_Regrets



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Attempted Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of past rape/abuse, Briefly touches on heavy topics but does not contain anything explicit, Dan Doesn't Talk Much, Dan acts like a child, Dan is extremely traumatised, Dan is kinda cute, Dan speaks in broken English, Demon Phil, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Phil Takes Care Of Dan, Slave Dan Howell, Way too much Hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28570089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Million_Regrets/pseuds/A_Million_Regrets
Summary: The world is dominated by demon-like beings who drink human blood and eat human meat to survive. They look like humans, but they lack humanity. One ordinary night, an unusually kind demon called Phil decides to save a traumatised human slave on a whim.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a gift to a friend in real life. She wanted a complete hurt/comfort fic, and this is what I came up with. Thus, this was written specifically to cater to her tastes. These days I only write one-shots when someone requests it because I don't get much time.
> 
> This fic probably does not contain a perfectly accurate portrayal of PTSD/trauma. This was written for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.

“So fucking loud,” Phil muttered irritably as he stepped out of the high-end restaurant for a breath of fresh air. The streets and roads that stretched out endlessly in front of him were all empty and isolated, and it made Phil relax a little bit. Bright coloured lights poured onto the footpath from the restaurant, illuminating the entire entrance. Phil sighed and calmly slipped his cold hands into his pockets, moving away from the radiance and heading towards the nearest dark corner. He collapsed back against a wall in silence and vacantly looked up at the cloudy night sky, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag with relief.

A street-lamp near him dwindled and went out abruptly, rewarding him with peaceful darkness. The loud chatter and horrid laughter of strangers from the restaurant trickled into his ears obtrusively, and he immediately regretted his stupid decision to accompany his friends that night. He had only agreed to come to appease them, and that turned out to be his biggest mistake. The restaurant was apparently the best one in the entire town. They sold expensive, high-quality human meat and sweet, unadulterated blood. They had several young human boys on display, and customers were allowed to take them to the room upstairs, if they so desired.

It was a horrible sight, and the whole place was reeking with the smell of blood and bodily fluids. The human slaves were standing behind glass windows while the demons sat around talking, laughing and drinking without a care in the world. It was disgusting, and Phil couldn't sit there and watch it happen. He wasn't some hero fighting for justice or a warrior trying to save all humans. In fact, he loved human blood, and the smell of it instantly turned him on and made him want to lose control. He didn't believe he was above anyone, or that he was better than other demons for pitying humans. He wouldn't try to claim moral high ground at this point, but . . . but he just couldn't bring himself to _enjoy_ a meal in front of the slaves.

He sighed softly and watched the puffs of smoke twirl in the air with a sour look on his face. He contemplated quietly leaving without saying anything. Going back inside was something he absolutely did not wish to do. His friends seemed to be enjoying the main attraction and the food, and he didn't want to be the one to ruin the good atmosphere. They were already drunk enough to pass out, and no one would particularly care if Phil went back home. He huffed in annoyance, blowing smoke out of his mouth lethargically.

“Walk, bitch.”

Phil turned his head with a frown and heard the sliding noise of the entrance door. He watched wordlessly as a weak-looking demon stumbled out of the restaurant, holding a dirty leash in his hand. It was attached to a tight metal collar which a young human boy was wearing around his neck. He followed the demon without protest, his head hanging below his shoulders in fear. The boy didn't look older than twenty, with long frizzy hair, pale white skin and frail, emaciated body. He was wearing thin, dirty trousers and a T-shirt in the cold, freezing weather. His arms and limbs were covered with several old and new bruises, and his every step was unstable and staggering.

Phil couldn't see the boy's face because of the giant curly mess on his head, nor did he want to. He turned away silently and continued to smoke without making any noise. Selling, buying and owning humans were all completely legal, but it wasn't considered that trendy anymore. In fact, Phil had never seen a demon who kept a slave. Very few demons kept human slaves these days, and this particular demon looked like he was one of them. Nevertheless, it didn't matter. It was none of Phil's business, and he was about to head back home. He was not going to get involved in it. He wasn't a hero, he repeated to himself. He didn't wish to save anyone. He just wasn't that kind of person.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The demon spat abruptly, and Phil glanced at them to see that the boy had collapsed to his knees due to exhaustion. He was shaking all over, and Phil's heart grew heavy. “I told you to walk, didn't I?” he shouted in anger, “You're so pathetically slow. I'm so sick of you. Do you want to stay here all night?” He kicked the boy in his stomach and bellowed, “Kneel, bitch.” He grabbed the boy's hair and slapped him across the face, making the boy whimper in pain. “Stay right here. Do you understand me? Wait here like a good little dog. I'll be right back. Get yourself together until then, or do you want me to leave you here?”

The boy obediently stood on his knees, trembling violently as he gave his master a tiny nod. Phil watched quietly for several seconds and looked away, taking a long drag out of his cigarette. He heard the opening and closing noise of the door and looked up at the night sky. A small gust of wind ruffled his hair and brushed his clothes, taking the puffs of white smoke away from him. His hands clenched into tight fists, and he exhaled smoke out of his mouth. He didn't know why, but his stomach was twisting. He swallowed painfully and threw the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his foot.

Phil turned to the boy to find him dutifully kneeling on the cold, filthy ground. His knees were bruised and bleeding, and it looked like he was in pain, but he was still not disobeying the order given to him. Before he could think about it, Phil walked towards the boy and knelt before him. “You okay?”

The boy blinked and looked up from the floor. Their eyes locked, and Phil saw the boy's delicate face for the first time. His eyes were a beautiful brilliant brown as he stared at Phil with shock on his small face. His eyelashes were long and black, and there were little freckles littered on his cheeks. Small curly locks framed his face. He looked at Phil, but he didn't say anything or move from his position. He just simply stared back at Phil with confusion and terror written on his face. His body was shaking, and Phil couldn't tell if it was due to the cold or due to fear.

“Do you need help?” he whispered softly, reaching out with his hand. He didn't know what he was doing, or why exactly he was doing it. He had accepted the reality of his world, and he was determined to live a quiet, subdued life, without aiming to be some kind of glorious hero, but for some unknown reason, he couldn't ignore the boy. There was something about him. At least the slaves inside the restaurent looked clean and healthy, but this boy looked a little more fragile than the others, like he was just a step away from crumbling into pieces. “I can help–”

The boy blinked and immediately flinched back, dropping his gaze back to the floor and shaking violently. He looked like he was terribly afraid of Phil, and Phil bit his lip, moving back guiltily. He removed his jacket wordlessly and extended his hand. The boy whimpered instantly, squeezing his eyes shut in trepidation. Phil glanced at him and mumbled, “It's okay.” He wrapped the jacket around the boy's bony shoulders and smiled at him kindly. “You can have it.”

The boy bit his lip and slowly opened his eyes, peeking at Phil through his eyelashes hesitantly. Phil smiled gently, and the boy immediately dropped his gaze back to the floor, looking befuddled. Phil sighed softly. “Do you need–”

“What the fuck, Dan?”

Phil looked up with a start. His smile instantly slipped off his face, and he stood up resentfully, leaning back against the wall and watching quietly as the man who owned the boy stomped towards them with an infuriated look on his face. He shot Phil a nasty glare and roughly grabbed the boy's arm, forcibly pulling him away. He clenched his jaw and his eyes were indignant. “What the fuck did I say to you?” he screamed at the boy, dragging him away. “I left you for one goddamn minute, and you're already seducing other demons. Fucking slut.”

Phil rested his back against the wall and closed his eyes tightly, taking a long, deep breath to steady himself. Rage flooded his veins, and he shoved his trembling hands into his pockets to control himself. He clenched his jaw tightly and watched with a hawk-like gaze as the man shoved and slapped the boy, pushing him into a dark alleyway, possibly to punish him for disobedience. He forced himself to avert his eyes and whirled around, heading in the opposite direction. He trudged forward hurriedly, deciding to return home as quickly as possible. If he didn't immediately remove himself from this rapidly escalating situation, he would end up doing something unimaginably stupid. The boy, Dan, was another demon's property, and Phil couldn't possibly do anything to change that.

Actually, he shouldn't.

Phil wasn't a hero. He most certainly wasn't. He himself survived by drinking human blood, and there were several humans like Dan who needed help. He couldn't possibly help everyone, and that was okay. He wasn't _obligated_ to help. Helping one human was not going to change anything at this point. It would be meaningless. 

Dan's startling brown eyes popped into Phil's mind, and his hands clenched into tight fists. He halted. He stared at the ground for a split second and swirled around, stomping towards the alleyway, the loud thuds of his footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. His breaths quickened, and he rushed into the dirty, narrow alley. It was dark in the small area, but there was enough light from the street-lamps for him to notice that the bastard was stroking his dick while sucking Dan's face off. Phil's blood boiled, and rage burnt through his stomach when he noticed the way Dan was shaking from head to toe. He trudged forward angrily and lifted his leg, kicking the asshole to the floor harshly. “Get the fuck away from him!” he shouted, enraged.

The demon haphazardly collapsed to the floor, hitting his head against a brick on the ground. He let out a groan of pain, rubbing his head with a frown on his face. “What the hell?” he shouted back, “Who the fuck are you?”

Phil panted heavily, and he could feel the heat rushing to his head. He glanced at Dan with gritted teeth, and Dan recoiled back in fear. Phil's jacket was lying on the ground, and the creep had ripped Dan's shirt apart, exposing his pale skin and the several bite marks and bruises on his body. Phil's heart thumped, and he glared down at the weak demon on the ground hatefully. The demon stared back with wide eyes, looking a little scared himself. Phil panted slightly and walked up to him. “Leave,” he hissed, “You have absolutely no right to hurt him like this. The slaves in the restaurant are treated way better than this.”

The expression on the demon's face immediately turned from slight fear to arrogant outrage. “Listen, kid. Demons can't control their sexual urges when they smell human blood. It's in our innate nature. It's who we are.” He carefully crawled back to his feet, dusting his back. “I bought him. He's mine, and I can do whatever the fuck I–”

“I said leave!” Phil hissed in an enraged, booming voice, flashing his sharp, canine teeth and looming above the weak, frail-looking demon. It was startlingly clear who would win in a serious fight. In a way, Phil understood what the other demon was trying to explain. Demons were inherently incapable of resisting their desires once they caught a whiff of sweet blood, and it was the main reason most restaurants had private rooms, but there were several ways to deal with it. There was no reason to hurt someone for no reason.

The demon in front of him blinked, staring at Phil's arm with wide eyes. “W-wait, that tattoo–that tattoo is–Oh, fuck. You are from the L-lester family?” He shrank back in fear, gulping awkwardly. “Shit. Sorry. Calm down. You can–you can have him,” he blurted fearfully. “I'm–I'm actually fed up with him anyway. He can't even wipe his own ass. He's fucked in the head–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Phil snarled in fury, glaring down at the short guy. “I'll pay you double the amount. Leave. Now.” He hissed and flashed his teeth.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed, stumbling back in terror. He slipped his hands into his pockets irritably. “I'm leaving. I'm leaving.” He turned around. “J-just letting you know, he has rare blood, but that's the only good thing about him. You'll get tired of him soon enough,” he choked out nervously as he walked away hastily.

Phil's eyes followed the demon until he disappeared out of sight. His rigid shoulders gradually relaxed, and his fists loosened. He retracted his canines, and his facial features returned to normal. He took a deep, steadying breath and sighed. The street-lamp that had diminished earlier flickered to life, illuminating the alley with a muddy yellow light. Phil turned to the boy to find him sitting on the floor with his hands pressed against his ears, his eyes squeezed shut in fear. Phil grabbed his jacket off the floor wordlessly and crouched on the floor, wrapping it around the boy's bruised shoulders. “It's okay,” he murmured in a soft voice, “Everything is okay.”

The boy's eyes slowly opened, and he blinked up at Phil innocently. Phil smiled gently and extended his hand, but the boy flinched back instantly. He whimpered and immediately crawled back to his knees, standing obediently with his eyes squeezed shut. His face was filled with fear, and his bruised knees shook violently. He looked like he was expecting Phil to hurt him, and Phil's heart sank into his stomach. He bit his lip, and his smile slipped off his face. His extended hand stilled and curled in the air before reaching out once again. The boy trembled, but Phil didn't stop. He gently placed his hand on top of the boy's curly hair and patted his head. “Relax,” he whispered tenderly. “It's okay. You're alright.”

The boy stilled and slowly fluttered his eyes open, looking up at Phil through his eyelashes. Phil smiled a sad smile. “I'm Phil,” he told Dan softly, “You're Dan, right? Can I call you that?”

Phil waited, but Dan didn't answer, and he removed his hand, standing up sorrowfully. “Do you have a family, Dan?” he asked, “Do you have somewhere you want to go? Somewhere you can stay? You're free. You can go back to your family.”

The boy dropped his gaze to the floor, and Phil silently waited for an answer, but it didn't come. Phil signed softly. “Okay. You can stay with me for the time being,” he explained, “Do you want to come with me?”

The boy didn't say anything, just sat still on the floor with a blank expression on his face. Phil chewed on his bottom lip and wondered if the boy understood English. He didn't seem like he was understanding Phil's words, and Phil was a little perplexed. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked in confusion, “You don't have to come with me. You can do whatever you want. I just helped you because I felt like it. You don't owe me anything.”

The boy looked up and stared at him before dropping his gaze back to the floor. He was silent for a moment, but then he moved shakily, grabbing the leash with grubby fingers. He extended his trembling hand and offered the leash to Phil, staring at him with wide eyes. Phil's heart plummeted, and he swallowed harshly, giving Dan a look of pure pity. He bent down and grabbed the metal collar around Dan's neck, crushing it under his palms and tossing it to the ground. “You don't need that anymore,” he murmured gently.

The boy stared at the collar on the ground, his fingers tightening around the leash. Phil grabbed his hand and gently uncurled his fingers one by one, removing the leash from his hand. He grasped Dan's hand tightly in his own and pulled him to his feet. “Let's go home.”

~*~

“Master Phil.”

“Ah, Ophelia.” Phil nodded, walking through the entrance gates to the foyer of his mansion. He glanced back at Dan, and Dan stared at the floor quietly. “This is Dan. He'll be staying here for a while.”

Ophelia blinked at Dan, looking him up and down. “A human, master?” She crinkled her nose and frowned. “Where did you buy him from? He doesn't look very . . . er, _clean_.”

Phil let out a soft sigh. “That's very rude, Ophelia.”

“I apologize,” Ophelia bowed, but she didn't look that remorseful. “Should I take him to the dungeon? Your father doesn't use it so the cages and chains are probably–”

“No!” Phil blurted instantly, “No, it's alright. Dan is, uh, he will be staying in my room.”

“In your room?” Ophelia looked sceptical. “A human boy?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do not worry. I will clean the dungeon right away. It will only take a few minutes. I will take the boy to–”

“Ophelia,” Phil said hastily, glancing back at Dan in panic. Dan was trembling violently, his eyes fixed on the floor. “Please. Dan will stay with me.” He turned away from Ophelia. “Dan, come with me,” he said quickly, walking towards the staircase without another word.

Dan followed him obediently, and Ophelia stared at them with a frown on her face. Phil avoided her sharp gaze and hurried up the steps, running away from her sight. He ambled down the corridor towards his room, looking back at Dan to see him still staring at the floor. His steps were slightly unsteady, but he wasn't complaining, and Phil frowned. “Are you alright?”

Dan flinched, but he didn't answer. Phil sighed heavily and opened the door to his bedroom. “This is my room,” he told Dan. “I'm not going to take you to the dungeon. Relax, okay?”

Phil's bedroom was proof of his single lifestyle. The walls were maroon, and it was the smallest room in the entire mansion. There were almost no decorations and very few furniture. There was a shelf full of random books and some old photographs on the mantelpiece. An old painting that someone had given him a long, long time ago hung on the wall. He couldn't remember who gave it to him, but he appreciated it nonetheless. “Sorry, it's a little messy,” he muttered in embarrassment. 

Phil's room was the only room in the entire mansion that Ophelia wasn't allowed to enter. He liked cleaning his room himself, but at that moment, he wished Ophelia had cleaned it. His bedroom was suddenly messier than he had imagined it to be. When he was alone, he felt like his room was the cleanest, most comfortable place in the world, but it was only when someone entered his room that he realised just how dirty it was. He would abruptly notice every slightly crooked photograph and a disorganised stack of books. He would notice the awkwardly placed pillow on the bed or a long-forgotten coffee stain on the rug. Usually, these things never caught his eye, and he always forgot to clean them. 

“Come on in,” he told Dan. He quickly grabbed the magazines and newspapers from the floor, shoving them into the nearest shelf. He huffed and made a mental note to clean the stain on the rug as quickly as possible. He glanced back hastily and noticed Dan staring at everything with wide, innocent eyes. He seemed to have felt Phil's stare because he glanced at Phil and immediately dropped his gaze to the floor, standing with his back pressed against the wall and his hands covering his body in fear. Phil bit his lip and sighed softly. “It's okay. I'm not going to do anything to you,” he clarified. “You can relax.”

Dan stared at the floor in silence, and Phil frowned doubtfully. “Do you understand what I'm saying? Can you talk? It's okay if you can't, but if you need something, you have to find a way to tell me, okay?” he explained gently.

Dan didn't answer, and there was nothing to indicate that he understood Phil. Dan just stood there wordlessly, and Phil's eyebrows furrowed in concern. He observed Dan's exhausted face quietly. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his movements were marred with fatigue. His eyelids were drooping, but he was trying hard to stay awake, possibly due to fear. He looked like he would collapse to the floor any second, and Phil felt his chest ache. It was heart-breaking, and he felt a deep sadness settle at the bottom of his stomach, like a large weight pulling him down to the depths of depression. He swallowed and turned away with a frown. “Right. You probably won't feel comfortable in my room. I forgot about that,” he whispered, stepping to the door, “Come with me.”

Dan instantly looked up and diligently followed him, his footsteps light and unstable. Phil remained quiet as he led Dan to the bedroom right next to his own. It should be clean enough, and it had an attached bathroom that Dan could use. He ambled down the narrow hallway and opened the door into the dark room, letting out a small sigh. “You can use this room. I'll go and bring some towels and clothes from my room. You can take a shower if you–” Phil turned and stilled immediately, his eyes widening in confusion. “What's wrong?”

Dan's eyes were wide and filled with terror. He stared at the room and backed away with a timid whimper, shaking uncontrollably. His hands lifted and covered his ears tightly, and he squeezed his eyes shut, sniffing quietly.

Phil blinked at Dan's reaction, confused and panicking about what to do. He looked at Dan and glanced back to the room, and realisation slowly poured into him. He rushed into the room immediately and turned on the lights. “Hey. It's okay,” he said, opening the door fully, “It's okay. Look. It's okay. It's not dark anymore.” He walked to Dan's side and patted his head gently. “Everything is fine. You're okay.”

Dan breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling irregularly. Phil brushed his hair tenderly, and Dan's shaking slowly stopped. “It's okay. You're safe,” Phil mumbled, “You're alright. No one is going to hurt you. Everything is fine. Open your eyes.”

Dan bit his bottom lip tightly and panted, opening his eyes slowly and taking a small peek into the room. Phil ruffled his messy hair and removed his hand. “See?” he said gently, moving out of his way, “It's not dark anymore. It's just a normal room. You don't have to be scared. You're safe here.”

Dan blinked and hesitantly stepped forward, looking at the room with wide eyes. Phil turned back. “Wait. I'll be right back,” he assured, rushing out of the room and into the hallway. He hurried to his room and headed to his closet, grabbing some of his old clothes and extra towels. He adjusted them on his arms and frowned contemplatively. Dan was still trembling from the cold, and Phil snatched a hoodie and socks just in case, stumbling out of the room quickly and walking back to Dan's room. He placed the heap of clothes on the bed and took a deep breath. “There,” he huffed, “You can use them.”

Dan was still standing awkwardly in a corner, his arms hugging his chest. He stared at the floor quietly, and Phil let out a small sigh. He shuffled closer to Dan and stroked his head reassuringly. “It's okay. I promise you're safe here,” he whispered softly, “Get some rest, okay? I'll be in my room if you need me.”

Dan remained silent, and Phil withdrew his hand, stepping back and turning around. It was past midnight, and he was extremely tired. He yawned lazily and decided to retire to his room for the night. He sighed in exhaustion, and he had only taken one single step, but he felt something holding him back. He blinked and looked over his shoulder confusedly to find Dan's fingers curled tightly around the hem of his T-shirt. Phil arched an eyebrow with surprise. “What's wrong?”

Dan's gaze was fixed on the floor, and his mouth was curled downward. His fingers tightened around Phil's T-shirt as he mumbled in a small, cracking voice, “S-scared.” 

Phil's heart thumped with pain. Dan's voice was scratchy and vulnerable, and his eyes were slightly teary. Phil swallowed harshly and turned around. “You don't have to be,” he whispered in a gentle voice, “There's no one else in this room. No one will bother you, okay? If you need anything, you can call me whenever you want, and I'll come right away.” Phil ruffled his hair, and Dan blinked up at him with wide eyes. “Try to get some sleep, alright? You need it.”

Dan's fingers loosened and slowly fell away. He stared at his feet wordlessly and gave Phil a tiny nod. Phil smiled. “The bathroom is right here,” he told Dan, walking towards the door and opening it. He quickly turned on all of the lights and pointed. “You can keep the lights on. It's alright.”

Phil closed the bathroom door and turned. “Well, then,” he said with a smile. “Good night, Dan.”

~*~

Phil entered the room quietly with a glass of water and a plate consisting of a messily made sandwich, some apple slices and two boiled eggs. He had made it with the ingredients he had found in the fridge, but he wasn't sure if Dan would want to consume it. He didn't know what else to give Dan, and he hoped Dan would like it. He sighed guiltily and stepped forward, placing the plate on the table. He turned and glanced back at the cleanly made bed with a confused frown. The heap of clothes he had left on the bed was still there, untouched. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Dan?”

Dan was nowhere to be seen, and Phil looked around in confusion. He was about to check the bathroom when a small thud captured his attention. He stared at the ground and noticed a pale hand under the bed. He arched an eyebrow and lowered himself to the floor, bending to look under the bed. “Dan,” he blurted in surprise, staring at Dan who seemed to be hiding under the bed. “What are you doing there?”

Dan blinked at him and curled into a ball, covering his face with his hands. He was trembling, and it looked like he had slept under the bed all night. He looked pale, exhausted and hungry. He was still wearing his worn-out pants and a torn shirt. Phil sighed as he looked down at Dan's skeleton-like body. “You don't have to hide, Dan,” he whispered in a soft voice, reaching out with his hand and stroking his head. “It's okay. You're safe here.”

Dan peeked at Phil through his fingers, but he didn't say anything. Phil smiled at him, and held out his hand. “Come on. You're hungry, aren't you? I made a sandwich for you,” he told Dan in a comforting voice.

Dan furrowed his eyebrows and stared up at Phil, looking confused. He glanced at Phil's hand and back at his face, blinking repeatedly with a frown on his face.

“Your hand. Give me your hand,” he explained gently. “I held your hand yesterday, remember?”

Dan frowned even more and extended his hand. He poked Phil's outstretched hand with his forefinger and squealed, shuffling back with terror on his face.

Phil stared at Dan with a sad smile on his face. “It's okay. Give me your hand.” He tried to reassure Dan. “You don't have to be scared, Dan. You can't have breakfast if you stay there. I'm just trying to help you, okay? Give me your hand. Can you do that?”

Dan perked up instantly, and Phil arched an eyebrow in confusion. He stared at Phil with wide, desperate eyes, gaping earnestly. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but then he frowned and closed his mouth. Phil waited patiently, and Dan's lips parted. “F-food?” he murmured in an eager voice, “Food?”

“Yes.” Phil nodded. “Give me your hand, and come out, okay? You're hungry, right?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip and lifted his trembling hand. It shook violently, but Phil grabbed it before Dan could pull it back. Dan flinched and whimpered softly, shaking violently. “It's okay. I got you,” Phil whispered gently, pulling Dan towards him. “That's it. You don't have to hide. You can stay here freely. No one is going to hurt you.”

Dan's legs shook and he collapsed against the wall weakly, breathing heavily. Phil let go of his hand and walked up to the table, bringing the food and water for Dan. “Here,” he said, “I don't like human food, and I don't know how to make it, but I tried my best.”

Phil placed the glass and plate on the floor and crouched next to Dan, placing his hand on Dan's head and ruffling his hair. “I'm sorry,” he whispered in a soft voice, “This is all I have.”

Dan looked up at him with wide eyes, glancing down at the plate of food with surprise. Phil leaned back and smiled, making Dan stare at him in shock. Phil frowned. “What's wrong?”

Dan looked at the plate and back at Phil. He pointed at it with his forefinger. “Me?”

Phil gave him a small, pity-filled smile. “Yeah. It's for you.”

Dan didn't wait another second. He scrambled forward hastily and grabbed the sandwich hurriedly, shoving it into his mouth. He chewed loudly and grabbed the egg with his right hand, snatching the apple slices with his left hand. He shoved the boiled egg into his mouth with wide, eager eyes, his gaze fixed on the plate unwaveringly. His cheeks were stuffed with food, and Phil was about to tell him to slow down when he coughed, dropping the apple slices accidentally. Phil rushed forward and patted his back. “Slow down,” he chastised, “It's alright. No one is going to steal your food. It's for you. Eat slowly, okay?”

Dan didn't seem to register his words. He ignored Phil's look of concern and grabbed the glass of water, chugging it down and finishing the sandwich in the blink of an eye. His eyes jumped from one thing to another, and he proceeded to devour the rest with overwhelming eagerness. Phil sighed and sat back, watching him with a lump slowly forming in his throat. He was suddenly glad that he had human food in the fridge. He enjoyed several human drinks and fruits occasionally. Human food was too much for his stomach to handle most of the time, but he had a habit of buying several different types of human food to find something he would love. Boiled eggs tasted alright to him, but apples were his favourite.

Dan stared at the empty plate after consuming every tiny bit of his meal, his lips curled downward. Phil arched a curious eyebrow. “What's wrong? Are you still hungry?” he asked worriedly, “Do you want more?”

Dan looked up at him with wide eyes. “M-more?” he whispered in a tiny voice, “More.”

Phil didn't know what type of life Dan had lived until now, but he was terrified to find out. Most people would be curious, but he wasn't the least bit interested. He already had a vague picture of everything Dan had been through. It was easy to deduce from Dan's odd behaviour and the bite marks and bruises on his body. He stared at Dan's eager face. “Okay,” he whispered with a harsh swallow, placing his palm on Dan's head. “I'll make some more.”

Dan brightened immediately and nodded diligently. “More.”

Phil turned away before his emotions went out of control and pointed to the heap of untouched clothes on the bed. “Take a shower and change your clothes, okay?” he told Dan, “I'll bring you food, but you need to shower. Can you do that?”

Dan scrambled to his feet instantly and nodded eagerly. “More?”

“Yeah. I'll give you more if you shower,” Phil muttered, grabbing the empty plate and heading to the door. He was halfway out the door when he heard a pain-filled squeal. He turned back instantly. “What hap–”

Dan was trying to remove his T-shirt, but it had gotten stuck due to how tight it was. He whimpered and pulled his T-shirt, accidentally banging his head against the wall. Phil blinked and placed the plate on the bed in a hurry, rushing to his side. “Wait. Dan, wait,” he said in a reassuring voice, “Don't pull it. Stay still. I'll help you.”

Dan stilled, but there was a small sniffing noise and Phil's eyes widened in surprise. He carefully pushed Dan's hands out of the T-shirt and pulled it gently over his head, looking at Dan with concern. “Hey. It's okay. You don't have to be embarrassed. It happens to me too,” he explained sympathetically.

Dan bit his lip and stared at his feet, shaking his head. “No . . .” he mumbled, “S-scared.”

“Oh.” Phil blinked when he realised it. “Oh, right. Because it was dark?”

Dan nodded timidly. “Scared,” he mumbled in a vulnerable voice.

“Yeah. I understand,” Phil said with a small smile, turning around and grabbing the plate. “Well, it's not dark right now so you should be fine in the shower. Clean up, okay? I'll prepare food for you.”

Dan nodded earnestly, and Phil chuckled. “Okay. I'll try to make something good,” he promised with a smile.

~*~

It took Dan several days to warm up to Phil. At first, he would always tremble or flinch when Phil stepped close to him, but now, two weeks later, he no longer whimpered away from Phil. He was still terribly afraid of everything, and he wasn't used to the room. He rarely spoke, and when he did, it was merely a few, clumsy words now and then. He still refused to go near the bed, and he always sat on the floor. For the first several days, he slept under the bed, and Phil had to coax him out of there every morning. After numerous efforts and repeating reassurances, on the thirteenth day, Phil had finally managed to make Dan sleep on the floor instead of under the bed. It wasn't much, but he was still very proud of Dan.

Living itself was like a routine to Dan. Every day, he followed the same pattern. Daily, the same thing, over and over again. He would wake up, and on Phil's insistence, he would brush his teeth and shower. He would put on new clothes, and he would eat food. He would sit on the floor quietly all day. If Phil told him to do something, he would do it. If Phil tried to speak to him, he would answer with stilted words. He never did anything out of his own volition. He always needed to be told. No matter how cold it got, he wouldn't even wear a hoodie by himself if he was not told. He would sit there on the same spot all day like a doll, and then he would go to sleep. He did the same thing every day, and it was painful to watch.

“Master.”

Phil looked up with a blink, snapping out of his thoughts. “Yes?”

Ophelia bowed respectfully. “Your father is–”

“Ah, he came back,” Phil remarked, standing up from his chair.

Ophelia nodded. “I'm truly sorry, but I told him about the human boy. It is my duty,” she admitted calmly, “Please forgive me.”

Phil blinked in surprise and sighed deeply. “It's alright, Ophelia,” he assured her, “I wasn't trying to hide it. Does he want to see me?”

“Yes.”

Phil nodded and sidestepped her, shoving his slightly shaking hands into his pockets and walking away. His mind slowly sifted through several excuses and explanations that he could give his father, but none of them sounded right. He quietly ambled through the giant hall, heading towards his father's office room. He stood in front of the door for several minutes before lifting his hands and knocking on it nervously. He didn't know what to say, but delaying it would only cause more trouble.

“Is that you, Phil?” His father's stern voice reached Phil's ears, slightly muffled. “Come in.”

Phil opened the door anxiously, stepping inside quietly. His father was sitting in his chair, his nose buried in a pile of documents on the table. He looked up when he noticed Phil and removed his glasses, placing the paper in his hand down on the table. “Sit.”

Phil walked up to the table and seated himself on a nearby chair, intertwining his hands tightly. “You wanted to see me?” he asked awkwardly, “Did you need something?”

His father arched an eyebrow. “Does a father need a reason to see his son?”

“Well, er, no, but you're busy.”

“Yes, I am,” he agreed with a nod of his head. He glanced at Phil and sighed. “You're right. I called you here to inform you that I'm going to South Korea. I won't be back for a few months. I will try to come back as soon as I can, but it may take a while. At least six months. Make sure to look after everything here while I'm gone.”

Phil blinked. “Ah, okay. I will.”

His father smiled and nodded. He turned away and wore his glasses again. He grabbed the paper and his attention was once again focused on the paper. Phil stared at him with a frown. “Er, that's it?” he asked timidly.

His father looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Yes?” he said confusedly, but then a look of understanding dawned on his face. “Oh, is it about the human boy?”

Phil's mouth opened and closed, and he stared at his hands nervously, afraid of looking up. He heard his father sigh deeply.

“Phil, I do not care. It's your personal life. Do whatever you want. Just don't cause me trouble,” he muttered absently, frowning at the paper. 

Phil bit his lip and swallowed. “O-okay.”

His father looked up. “I am surprised though, I admit,” he disclosed in a curious voice, “You never seemed interested in using human slaves for your, uh, _needs_.”

Phil's eyes widened, and he rushed to explain, “No! No, that's not–Father, I'm not–” He stopped for a second to regain his composure. “He's not my slave, Father. I'm not interested in that. He's . . . well, he's my friend. I don't want to do anything to him.”

His father leaned back in his chair and studied him carefully for several seconds. He narrowed his eyes doubtfully. “But you want my permission to keep him here?” he guessed.

“Yes,” Phil blurted, “Well, no. I'm not exactly _keeping_ him here. I'm just trying to help him, and er, he can leave if he wants to.”

His father looked utterly surprised. He frowned at his hand for a long time and sighed. “Alright.” He nodded. “It's your life. Do whatever you want, but he's _your_ responsibility. Remember that. If he causes problems, you're the one that has to answer.”

Phil nodded in determination. “Yes, of course. I understand.”

His father nodded. “Alright.”

Phil pushed his chair back and stood up. “Thank you, father.”

His father didn't reply. His attention was back on the paper, and Phil quietly turned away, walking out of the room swiftly. He closed the door and immediately took a deep steadying breath, sighing in relief. His father had never been strict, but Phil had always been a little afraid of him. He was seldom home, and he rarely talked to Phil. Maybe Phil just wasn't used to talking to him.

“Master Phil.”

Phil turned around with a frown. “Ophelia.”

“Erm, the food is ready,” she said, not unkindly, holding up a metal tray.

“Oh.” Phil blinked. “Thank you.”

Ophelia nodded. “Please don't come to the kitchen. I will make the food,” she told him, giving him a look of disapproval. “Should I take it to the human boy's room?”

“Ah, no, I'll take it,” Phil told her politely, taking the tray from her hands. “Don't enter that room without my permission, Ophelia. You will scare him.”

Ophelia nodded. “I understand.”

Phil smiled and turned away. He made his way through the foyer to the staircase, holding the tray in his hand and ascending the steps silently. He wondered what Dan was doing in his room. He was probably sleeping or gazing out at the fields through the window. Phil wanted to take Dan outside to the garden, but Dan refused to get out of the room. He was terrified of everything. He wouldn't go near the bed. He wouldn't go near the sofa or table. He was afraid of the door itself, and it pained Phil to see him in that condition.

“Dan?” Phil said softly as he entered the room.

Dan was awake and sitting in the corner of the room with his back placed against the wall and his knees pressed to his chest. He looked bored and listless at first, but a tiny bit of joy returned to his face when he saw Phil. He stared up at Phil with a hopeful, expectant look in his eyes, moving away from the wall and sitting up on his knees. His long, wild curls covered most of his face, and his bony arm lifted to shove his hair out of his face. He accidentally poked his eye with his finger and squealed, whimpering and rubbing his eyes helplessly.

Phil placed the tray on the bed and walked towards Dan, sitting on the floor and prying Dan's hands away. “Wait, Dan. Stop. Just close your eyes, okay?” he said gently, “It's alright. Close your eyes for a few seconds. It'll go away.”

Dan sniffed and squeezed his eyes shut timidly. Phil smiled with a small sigh. He waited patiently for several minutes and nodded. “Okay. Open your eyes now.”

Dan frowned and fluttered his eyes open, blinking repeatedly in confusion. Phil smiled. “Did it go away?”

Dan nodded confusedly, and Phil smiled. “Okay,” he murmured, standing up. “I brought food. Are you hungry?”

Dan blinked and nodded eagerly. “Food.”

“Do you want to sit on the sofa, Dan?” Phil asked hopefully.

Dan shook his head and patted the floor. “H-here.”

Phil sighed. “Alright.” He took the tray from the bed and placed it in front of Dan. “You can tell me if you need more, okay?” He frowned. “Oh, wait. I'll bring a glass of water for you.”

Phil turned away, but he immediately halted when he felt Dan grab his T-shirt. He looked back and frowned. “What's wrong?”

Dan stared at his feet in silence, without saying anything at all. His curly brown hair covered his forehead, and Phil let out a soft sigh, veering around to face him once again. “Do you need anything else?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip and glanced at him hastily, fumbling with his hands awkwardly. Phil waited patiently, and Dan finally lifted his hand and pointed to his curly head. “Um.”

Phil tilted his head in deep confusion. “What?”

Dan touched his head earnestly and looked up at Phil with wide, expectant eyes, but Phil still wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to convey. He was already aware of Dan's problems with communication. It looked like he understood Phil, but he didn't know many words, and he was mostly incapable of conveying his thoughts and feelings. Phil gazed at Dan worriedly. “I don't understand, Dan. I'm sorry,” he confessed genuinely.

Dan's keen expression turned into dismay, but he didn't give up. He pointed at Phil's hand and then at his own head reluctantly, staring at Phil gloomily. Phil blinked, and it finally clicked. He raised his hand and patted Dan's head, smoothing his messy hair gently. Dan stilled and stared at him with wide eyes filled with awe.

Phil let out a small, amused laugh. “Do you like it when I pat your head?”

Dan blinked repeatedly and nodded eagerly. Phil sighed softly with a small smile and removed his hand. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. Should he be happy or sad? This poor boy was desperately starving for affection and kindness, and it made Phil deeply concerned for him. It was painful to see.

Suddenly, Dan pointed at Phil's chest, and Phil looked down curiously. Dan's eyebrows were furrowed, and it looked like he was thinking hard about something. He blinked repeatedly and opened his mouth. “G-good,” he said silently, pointing at Phil. “Good.”

Phil's heart melted in his chest, and he really wanted to hug Dan. “You think I'm good?”

Dan nodded brightly. “Good.” He dropped his gaze to the floor glumly. “O-out . . . side . . . outside . . . bad,” he whispered tearfully. “Outside bad.” He pointed at Phil. “Good.”

Phil felt like his throat was all clogged up, and he didn't know what to say. He was happy Dan felt that way about him, but the way he talked about the outside world, the world only he knew, was heartbreaking. “Okay,” he managed to whisper. “I . . . I'll go get some water.” He felt like he would cry if he stayed in that room any longer. He turned without another word and walked away.

~*~

Later that night, Phil woke up with a start to terrified screams that echoed throughout the mansion. He bolted upright with wide, shocked eyes, the drowsiness of sleep completely vanishing from his body at once. He pushed his blanket aside and rose to his feet, turning on the lights and rushing out of the room with many worst-case scenarios running through his mind. He opened the door to Dan's room and looked around with hasty eyes, his quick movements marked with panic. “Dan,” he breathed.

Dan was collapsed on the floor in the darkest corner of the room, whimpering fearfully. Phil's eyes widened, and he rushed to Dan's side, dropping to his knees and shaking his shoulder anxiously. “Dan, what happened?” he asked quickly, “What's wrong? Are you in pain? Are you hurt? Dan!”

Dan shuddered and curled into a ball, sniffing quietly. His eyes were still closed, but there were tear tracks on his cheeks. It didn't take long for Phil to realise that Dan was crying in his sleep. Phil's eyebrows furrowed, and his hands stilled in sorrow. He bit his lip in remorse and brushed Dan's sweaty hair back from his delicate face. He was such a beautiful boy, but he was reduced to this broken shell of a person after years and years of suffering. Phil wanted to scoop him up into a tight hug and tell him that everything was okay.

“Dan,” he whispered softly, touching his shoulder, “Wake up. It's a nightmare.” He shook him with a little more force. “Wake up. You're okay.”

Dan jolted awake, panting heavily and his eyes wide. He stared at Phil's face for a split second and jerked back immediately, scrambling away from Phil with a whimper. His back hit the wall, and he pressed his hands against his ears, looking at Phil with a such a look of pure terror that it sent a chill down Phil's spine. “No. No. No. No,” he mumbled repeatedly in a barely audible voice, “No. No. No. No. No. No–”

“Hey. Hey, it's okay. Dan, it's okay,” Phil struggled to explain, desperately trying to calm him down, “Listen to me. It's okay. I'm Phil, remember? You're staying with me.”

Dan's eyes had a wild look in them, a crazy, almost hysterical look, like he wasn't really here. He wasn't looking at _Phil_ ; he was looking at someone else. He was seeing something else. He was somewhere far away. “No. No. No. No. No. No–” he repeated like a mantra. 

“Stop. Dan, stop. Listen,” Phil tried desperately, “It's alright. Take a deep breath, okay? Take a deep breath. Listen to me. Everything is okay. You are _safe,_ I promise _._ ”

Dan panted roughly and tears trickled down his cheeks. He sniffed, and Phil grasped his hands gently, prying them away from his ears. “Look at me. It's okay,” he whispered in a pained voice, “You're okay. Look at me.”

Dan blinked repeatedly and tears rolled down his cheeks. He sniffed and hiccuped. “Scared,” he cried in a small, vulnerable voice, “S-scared.”

Phil had never been the overly-emotional type. He had never shed tears over anything before. He was someone who usually turned his head and averted his gaze whenever an injustice was being done in his presence, but–but right then, he really wanted to cry. His chest was heavy, and he couldn't look at Dan's face. He wanted to cry. “It's okay,” Phil murmured in a choked voice. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and he couldn't control his emotions. He leaned forward and hesitated. “Can I–can I give you a hug? Can I hug you? Is that okay?”

Dan sniffed. “S-scared.”

Phil pulled Dan into a very very loose hug, lightly wrapping his arms around Dan. “I got you. You're alright. Everything will be okay. I'm sorry.”

Dan stilled and went rigid against his arms, but it only lasted for a few seconds. His hands came up to grip Phil's T-shirt, and he burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. Phil's heart sank into the depths of his stomach, and he was glad he was able to help Dan. He patted Dan's back and moved his hand up and down in a soothing manner, mumbling reassuring words and phrases and assuring again and again that he was in a safe place now. He didn't have to fear anyone. He was no longer someone's slave or toy. He was a person worthy of respect, love and kindness. He was no longer _alone._

Phil didn't know how long he sat there, but before he knew it, a long time had passed and Dan was fast asleep. Sometime during the chaos and sobs, Phil had sat back with his back against the wall, and somehow, Dan ended up sprawled on his lap with his head resting against Phil's shoulder. Phil could feel Dan's breaths against his neck, and his left leg had fallen asleep a long time ago. He wondered if he should slowly move Dan to the bed and go back to sleep. Dan was way too skinny, and it should be easy to carry him.

Phil looked down, staring at Dan's peaceful face. There were tears tracks on his face, and his eyelids were red and swollen. His fingers were curled tightly around Phil's T-shirt, and Phil sighed softly, resting his head back to the wall and staring at the ceiling silently. Dan looked so calm and content in his sleep that Phil didn't have the heart to disturb his sleep. It looked like nightmares plagued most of Dan's nights and it was very hard for him to fall asleep. Phil couldn't bring himself to disrupt Dan's sleep.

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, holding Dan close and deciding to stay. “Good night, Dan,” he murmured with a soft huff, “Sleep well.”


	2. PART TWO

Phil awoke from his short nap in the evening to find his room engulfed in a deep hue of tangerine. He glanced out of the window, and he could see the sun setting on the horizon. He had been taking care of Dan every night for several days, and it was an extremely difficult job. Tending to his slowly healing wounds, helping him wear clothes and preparing food was all fine, but it was the mental exhaustion that came with looking after someone he couldn't handle. He was always sleepy and tired.

Someone knocked on his bedroom door. “Master Phil.” Ophelia's muffled words reached his ears, and Phil sat up with a frown.

“Yes?” he answered in confusion. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms, scratching the back of his head. “Come in.”

The door opened with a small creak, and Ophelia walked in gracefully, holding a broom. “I'm sorry for disturbing your nap, but–” She hesitated for a moment and sighed. “I didn't see the human boy in his room. Did you know about it, or did he run away without telling you?”

Phil blinked, and his eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

Ophelia huffed. “The human boy, Master. He's not in his room.”

Phil shoved the duvet aside and jumped to his feet. “You went into his room?!” he asked loudly.

“Well, yes,” she said, arching an eyebrow, “I was cleaning. I had to–”

“Ophelia!” Phil shouted irritably, “I told you to stay away from that room.” He huffed in annoyance and rushed to the door. “He gets scared easily.”

“I'm really sorry,” Ophelia told him, “I didn't know.”

“Don't go into that room again without telling me,” Phil ordered briskly before opening the door and hurrying to Dan's bedroom. The hallway was quiet and submerged in darkness, and he regretted taking a nap. He opened Dan's room nervously. “Dan?” he said, stepping into the room soundlessly.

The room was slightly dark and chilly, and the lights were off. Phil regretted not telling Ophelia about Dan's fears. He should've clarified everything from the start. “Dan.” The bed was still cleanly made and untouched, and Dan was nowhere to be seen. Phil frowned in concern, staring at the quiet place in the corner that Dan liked to sit. He knew Dan would never leave the room or the mansion on his own. He was terrified of every little thing. He wasn't even capable of running away. He was most certainly hiding somewhere. Phil's eyebrows furrowed, and he moved towards the bathroom door. “Dan?” He knocked on the door with his knuckles. “You there?”

There was no response for several minutes, and Phil's concern deepened. He grabbed the knob and opened the door, walking in hastily. He looked in the toilet and the shower and found no one. His worries increased tenfold, and he rushed back into the bedroom, looking under the bed and moving the chair to glance under the study desk. His throat tightened with guilt when he suddenly remembered how afraid Dan was of the dark. He swallowed and rubbed his forehead. “Dammit,” he muttered to himself.

There was a small squeaking noise from the closet, and Phil looked up sharply. He blinked, and his eyes widened in shock. He hurried to his closet and pulled it open in a rush, pushing his clothes aside hastily with his heart thumping against his chest. “Dan!” he blurted with startled eyes, staring down at him, completely stunned.

Dan was sitting there with his knees pressed against his chest, looking small and vulnerable. His whole body was shaking vehemently, and his hands were pressed against his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he looked _terrified._

Phil's chest flooded with relief, and he stared down at Dan with sympathetic eyes. He extended his hand gently and placed it on his curly head. Dan flinched back immediately, but Phil ruffled his hair, and Dan stilled. He slowly fluttered his eyes open. He looked up at Phil with a whimper, tears streaming down his cheeks. He sniffed and sobbed, and Phil felt his heart break. Dan's trembling fingers grabbed the hem of Phil's T-shirt, and he stared at Phil with a desperate look on his face.

“It's alright now,” Phil said softly, crouching down beside Dan. “I'm sorry, Dan. I'm really sorry. It's okay now. I'm here, okay? You're okay.”

Dan sniffed, and his shaking didn't stop. His fingers were clenching Phil's T-shirt tightly, and Phil patted his head reassuringly. “It's okay. I got you,” he murmured, “Let's get out of the closet, okay? Can you do that? You're safe, I promise.”

Dan flinched and gave Phil a look of terror. “No. No. No. No. No,” he sobbed, shaking his head desperately, “Bad. Outside bad. Outside bad.”

“Dan, no,” Phil tried to explain, “Outside is not bad, okay? Outside is good. It's good, I promise. Outside is good.”

Dan sobbed, tears cascading down his cheeks. “O-outside bad.”

Phil frowned at Dan for a long time, and he suddenly realised his blunder. He slapped his forehead and groaned, standing up instantly and hurriedly turning on the lights. He had forgotten it completely in his blind panic to find Dan. He walked back to Dan and knelt next to him. “See? It's bright again,” he murmured in an encouraging voice, “It's not bad anymore.”

Dan sniffed and peeked through his eyelashes, blinking confusedly. His hands slowly fell away from his ears, and he scrutinized the bright room with suspicion. He frowned dubiously and stared at Phil with wide eyes. “Good?”

“Yes. It's good.” Phil smiled and gently wiped Dan's tears away with his hand.

Dan sniffled. “Scared.”

“That's alright. It's okay to be scared,” he murmured in reassurance, grasping Dan's hand loosely. “I'll hold your hand, okay? There's no need to be scared. I'm with you. Everything is okay. Outside is good.”

Dan stared at Phil's hand, wide-eyed and hopeful. He sniffed. “O . . . kay?”

Phil nodded with a small smile. “Okay.” He pulled Dan to his feet and nudged him forward, tugging him out of the dark closet and into the light. “Look, you're fine, right?”

Dan's eyes were frantic as he looked around the room, his gaze shifting from one thing to another. He frowned and nodded. “Okay,” he mumbled, “Good.”

“Yeah.” Phil smiled, pulling his hand away. “You don't have to sit on the floor. You can use the bed. It's alright,” he assured Dan, stepping towards the bed.

Dan's eyes widened, and he staggered back instantly, his hands shooting up to cover his ears. “No!” he gasped, “B-bed bad!”

Phil's neck snapped up immediately in shock, his eyes wide as he saw Dan heaving roughly. “Dan–”

Dan stepped back against the wall and panted. “Bed bad. Bed bad. Bed bad,” he recited, trembling from head to toe.

“Okay. Okay, Dan. I understand. Bed is bad. It was just a suggestion. You don't have to use it,” Phil consoled hastily, shuffling closer and trying to calm Dan.

Dan squeezed his eyes shut and trembled. “Bed bad.”

Phil reached forward and patted his head to comfort him. “I got it. It's okay. You don't have to use it. I have a mattress. You can use that. It's alright,” he whispered in a reassuring voice. “Everything is alright.”

Dan sniffed and opened his eyes reluctantly, giving Phil a tiny nod. “I sorry,” he sniffled.

Phil stared into the depths of Dan's fragile eyes, and all he found was emptiness. “Do you want a hug? Can I hug you? Do you remember when I hugged you a few days ago? Was that okay?”

Dan sniffed and tilted his head in confusion. “H-hug?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah.”

Dan frowned. “Hug good?”

Phil didn't know how to answer that question. Dan was someone who didn't even know the warmth of a simple, loving hug. “Yeah. It's good. It's warm.”

Dan's eyebrows furrowed, and he nodded. “Hug. Hug okay.”

Phil smiled and leaned forward, wrapping him in a loose, gentle hug. Dan melted against his body, and Phil rubbed his back reassuringly. “It's okay. Everything is fine. You don't have to be scared anymore. I–I don't know what kind of life you've lived until now, and I don't know what you've been through, but everything is okay now. I'll take care of you from now on. You are safe. You are safe and . . . and you can be happy,” he whispered, and for some reason, his voice cracked. “You're allowed to be happy. You are free. You don't have to listen to anyone anymore.”

Phil didn't know how much of it Dan was able to understand, but it didn't matter. It needed to be said. He sighed softly and pulled back with a small smile, ruffling Dan's hair.

Dan stared up at him with awed eyes, looking surprised and amazed. “Hug good,” he told Phil with a nod. “Hug good.”

Phil chuckled. “I'm glad.” He turned away. “I'll bring the mattress from my room, okay? You can use that.” He stopped pensively. “Or do you want to use the sofa? It's large enough for you.”

Dan wiped his cheeks and looked up. “So . . . sopa?”

“Sofa.”

“Sopa.”

Phil huffed with a smile. “Sofa, Dan. F.”

Dan nodded with a frown. “Okay.”

Phil shook his head in amusement. “Come with me. You can use the sofa,” he told Dan, grabbing the doorknob.

Dan's expression immediately changed, and he shook his head vehemently. “Outside bad,” he said stubbornly, “Here good.”

Phil blinked. “Dan, you saw the lounge when I brought you here. It's safe.”

Dan cowered back. “Outside bad. Here good,” he repeated. “Here good. Here food, and here hug. Here safe. I stay here.”

“Okay. Okay.” Phil agreed with a sigh. “I won't force you. You can stay here for now.”

Dan brightened, and his eyes glinted with relief. “Okay.” He looked at Phil and tilted his head with a frown. “I . . . I Dan,” he stammered, pointing at himself. He lifted his hand and pointed at Phil. “Paul?”

Phil smiled gently. “It's Phil. My name is Phil. I told you before. Phil Lester.

Dan frowned. “Pill?”

“Phil.”

“Pill.”

“Phil, Dan. P. H. I. L. Phil.”

“Okay.” Dan nodded. “Outside bad. Phil good.”

Phil swallowed harshly, and he didn't know how to react. He wasn't a hero just because he had saved someone. He had saved Dan to make himself feel better. He had saved Dan due to his own selfish reasons. He didn't deserve Dan's gratitude, but he didn't know what else to do but accept. “Thank you, Dan.”

~*~

A month later, Phil realised that Dan was finally used to his new home. Most of his bruises had started to fade, and some had already turned invisible. Dan looked a little better than he did before, and his face was less pale. He was no longer scared of Phil, and it looked like he trusted Phil. His appetite was certainly better than the average human. He was always hungry and craving for food. He would accept any type of food and gobble it down in a split second. Phil knew it was mostly his survival instinct. Food was probably scarce and a rarity where he lived before, and he was probably taught by someone to eat whenever he was given food. 

He still refused to use the bed or step out of the bedroom, but Phil wanted to change that. There wasn't much to do inside the bedroom. There was nothing to keep Dan entertained. Dan would spend the days sleeping or staring out of the window. Sometimes, Phil would enter the room and find him staring blankly at the dull wall with a faraway look in his eyes, like he was thinking . . . but not really thinking about anything important. It was hard to deduce the meaning behind it. Sometimes, Phil tried to quietly observe his face and find out, but he couldn't. There was probably no specific meaning behind it. It was just an empty gaze. Just a look of someone who had been through a lot.

“Are you ready?” Phil asked softly.

Dan pouted and shook his head. “Outside bad.”

“Dan,” Phil sighed, “I told you. You can't stay in this room forever. I'll show you around. I promise it's safe.” Phil grasped Dan's hand and squeezed. “I'm with you. I'll hold your hand, okay? There's no need to be scared. You're not alone.”

Dan remained quiet, and Phil continued, “I have to go out for work tomorrow, Dan,” he whispered, “You can't stay in this small room forever, and you can't keep depending on me. I want you to get used to the mansion so I can take you to the garden. I'm sure you'll like it, Dan.”

Dan stared at his feet quietly, his hair curled on his forehead. Phil had helped Dan cut his hair the day before, and it certainly helped him look more normal and civilized. He no longer looked like a wild animal. “I–” Dan whispered in a shaky voice, “–like . . . here. I like here.”

Phil pursed his lips dejectedly. Dan's English was improving, and Phil wanted to teach him to read. He had never taught anyone anything, but he wanted to at least try. “I know. I know, but outside is good too,” he murmured gently, placing his hand on Dan's head and stroking his hair. “I'm coming with you, Dan. You can come back here anytime you want. This is your room now. I'm not taking you elsewhere. I just want to show you my home.”

Dan looked up hopefully. “Here. Co–come back? I here?”

Phil nodded and smiled a sad smile. “Yeah. You can come back here.”

“Oh.” Dan let out a breath of relief. “O-okay.”

Phil smiled and squeezed his hand, pulling him forward. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, looking back at Dan cautiously. Dan's eyes were squeezed shut, and he was trembling all over. His hands grasped Phil's tightly, and Phil caressed his head. “It's okay. Take a deep breath,” he murmured gently, “It's okay.”

Dan trembled. “Scared.”

“Open your eyes slowly, okay? There's nothing to be scared of. Look. It's just my home. It's just a normal room,” Phil assured slowly.

Dan sniffed, and his eyelids fluttered. He looked at his surroundings through small slits, his lips quivering with fear. When he had confirmed that there was nothing around him, he fully opened his eyes and blinked. He stared at the floor and the wall, inspecting in front of him and behind him. He looked to his left and right with surprised eyes, turning to stare at Phil. “Good?”

Phil nodded with a smile. “Yeah,” he said, “Come on. I'll show you every room.”

Phil spent the next two hours, taking Dan to every room and showing him his large home. He took Dan to his bedroom, drawing room, library, balcony, indoor swimming pool and even the bathroom. Dan was extremely reluctant to explore a new room, and it took him several minutes to get used to new surroundings. His hand would squeeze Phil's hand, and he would glance at everything around him, inspecting every nook and corner. He would stop if there was even a tiny space of darkness in a corner and cling to Phil desperately.

“This is the sofa I was talking about,” Phil said with a smile.

Dan stared at the sofa with a frown. “So . . . fa?”

“Yup,” Phil agreed, “Do you want to try sitting on it?” Phil dropped back to the sofa and looked up at Dan. “See?”

Dan nodded. “Okay.” He walked towards it timidly and sat down with a hesitant look on his face. As soon as his butt touched the sofa, his face lit up and he blinked. “Good!” he blurted, bouncing on it. “Sofa good.”

Phil smiled and ruffled Dan's hair. “I'm glad,” he chuckled, “You can sleep here if you want.”

Dan nodded happily, and Phil watched him with a sad gaze. Most demons liked young humans, and human children were the most expensive in the market. It was clear from Dan's behaviour that he was bought when he was a young child. Most slaves were considered dirty and were kept in dungeons. They rarely saw daylight, and Dan's extreme fear of darkness was understandable. Phil wondered if Dan had the same experience or if his speculation was utterly wrong. At least, he was sure that Dan had lived a miserable life until now, and he felt his heart ache when he thought about it.

Dan's stomach grumbled suddenly, and he frowned, stroking his belly. He looked up at Phil expectantly, his eyes wide with hope. “Food?”

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I'll make something. What do you want? Is there anything specific you want to eat? I bought a lot of things the other day. I'll make anything you want.”

Dan frowned confusedly. “Food?”

“Yes. Food, but is there any particular type of food you want?”

Dan nodded thoughtfully. “Food.”

Phil let out a teary chuckle. “Okay. Got it. You want food.”

Dan smiled for the very first time. His eyes crinkled, and a hint of happiness returned to his gaze. Phil's heart almost stopped, and he had an intense urge to cry. God, it was such a beautiful smile.

~*~

Phil returned home late at night and tiredly walked into his home. There were bags under his eyes, and his vision was misty due to exhaustion. His head was throbbing, and he was extremely worried about Dan. He had worried about Dan all day. In fact, Dan was the only thing in his mind. He had made sure to ask Ophelia to prepare lots of food before leaving. He had placed a jug of water in Dan's bedroom and turned on all of the lights in his room. He had told Dan to eat food and drink water whenever he wanted, and he had even remembered to make Dan wear two hoodies. Dan was always cold, but he never complained, and he never wore clothes by himself. He would just curl on the ground and shiver until Phil noticed him and wrapped a blanket around him.

As soon as Phil stepped to the foyer, a terrible feeling of dread invaded his chest. He could tell immediately that something was horribly wrong. The room was a complete and utter mess. There were torn books and pillows on the floor, and pieces of paper littered everywhere. A chair was overturned, and another looked broken.

Phil's feet carried him forward, and his eyes widened when he saw the food and water scattered on the floor. His heart jumped to his throat in panic, and he rushed towards the staircase, panting heavily in terror. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. “Shit. Please be okay. Please be okay,” he muttered to himself shakily.

“Master.” Ophelia's voice stopped him immediately.

Phil whirled around. “Ophelia–Dan, I–what is all this? Where is he? Where is Dan? What happened?Where–How–”

“Please calm down,” Ophelia told him, and her voice was surprisingly gentle. “The boy is probably in his room. He just stopped screaming.”

Phil gaped at her. “What?”

Ophelia huffed. “It is your fault. The boy is attached to you. He has been screaming and looking for you all day. I tried to make him eat to calm him, but he wouldn't stop screaming and throwing things. A bit ungrateful, isn't he?”

“Oh.” Phil blinked. “Where–where is he? In his room? I should–” He turned away and marched up the stairs.

“Master, wait–”

Phil rushed through the corridor and hurried to the bedroom. He opened the door with shaking fingers and walked inside to find it in a similar state. Everything was broken and messily thrown to the floor. It looked almost like a wild animal had gone on a rampage. His eyes scanned the room swiftly, but he couldn't find Dan. He could hear quiet sniffling noises, and his heart rammed against his chest. He rushed inside and opened the closet hastily, breathing heavily. “Dan!” he shouted, pushing the clothes away and falling to the floor with wide, startled eyes.

Dan sniffled and sobbed, squeezing his knees to his chest. His face was wet with tears, and he looked utterly distraught. Phil's eyebrows creased with concern. Dan looked normal and unharmed, and relief flooded Phil's chest. He placed a hand on Dan's knee. “Dan, what happened?” he asked hastily, “Did someone come here? Did Ophelia come inside? Was it someone else? Did someone hurt you? Are you hurt?”

Dan stilled immediately, looking up at Phil with tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were wide, and he blinked repeatedly. “P-phil?” he hiccuped quietly.

“Yeah, it's me,” Phil whispered gently, “What happened? Why are you crying? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?”

Dan sniffed, and his eyes filled with tears. He reached out and grasped Phil's T-shirt with shaking fingers, shaking his head in denial. “I s-scared,” he sobbed and whimpered. “Phil . . . P-phil not here. I scared.”

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat. “I'm sorry, Dan. I told you, remember? I just had some work to do,” he explained in a quiet voice, “I'm sorry.” He stared at Dan's tear-streaked, terrified face and trembling hands and bit his lip guiltily. “I'm sorry. I'm here now. I'm here, okay?”

Dan wiped his eyes and sniffed. “O-okay.”

Phil gestured to the mess behind him. “Did you do that?” he asked softly.

Dan flinched and shrank back fearfully. “I sorry . . .” He covered his head with his hand and trembled. “I sorry.”

“It's okay, Dan. I was just asking. It's okay,” Phil assured, gently taking Dan's hands away from his hand. He clutched Dan's hands in his own and squeezed. “It's okay.”

Dan sniffed and glanced at him through his eyelashes. “Okay?”

Phil nodded with a kind smile. “It's okay.”

Dan's shoulders relaxed. “Okay.”

“Were you looking for me?” Phil asked quietly, sitting next to Dan and wiping Dan's tears away with his hand.

Dan nodded. “P-phil . . . outside . . . outside bad and Phil outside–” he stammered and frowned. “Hurt. Phil hurt. I not like.”

“I'm really sorry, Dan. I'm sorry for scaring you,” he apologized genuinely, “Outside is not that bad, Dan. Look, I'm completely fine. I'm not hurt.”

Dan nodded. “Okay. Phil good.”

Phil smiled and looked down. Dan's hands were warm. He swallowed painfully and looked up to see Dan staring at him expectantly. His eyes were full of hope, and he stared into Phil's eyes eagerly. Phil frowned slightly. “What's wrong?”

Dan's eyes were wide, and he lowered his head, pointing to his head with his forefinger. “Pat.”

Phil smiled and lifted his hand, stroking Dan's hair and brushing his hair back from his face. “Does it feel good?”

Dan nodded earnestly. “Good.” He looked up at Phil with wide eyes, and he looked even more hopeful. “Hug?”

“You want a hug?” Phil asked silently.

Dan nodded eagerly. “Hug.”

Phil leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dan, hugging him tightly. Dan hummed and happily buried his face into Phil's chest, purring like a cat. “Hug good,” he whispered, his voice muffled.

Phil felt Dan's warmth seep into his cold body, and his chest grew heavy. He was slowly starting to get attached to this human boy, and it could only lead to disaster. He swallowed and remained quiet, holding Dan protectively. Dan pulled back eventually, and Phil stared at his innocent face for a long time. He swallowed and moved before he could think. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he wanted to show Dan how it felt to be cared for. His hands cupped Dan's face, and he pressed a small, feather-light kiss on Dan's forehead, moving back quietly. “You'll always be safe here,” he whispered, “I'll make sure that you are.”

Dan stared at him with wide, awed eyes. His hand lifted to touch his forehead, and he frowned. “Phil?”

Phil smiled. “It's called a kiss.”

“Kiss?” Dan asked.

Phil nodded, and Dan's face lit up immediately. He smiled happily and lowered his head, bumping Phil's chin with his forehead. “Kiss.”

Phil let out a small laugh and placed another kiss on Dan's forehead. Dan brightened immediately and nodded to himself. “Kiss good,” he said. “Kiss I like.” He looked up at Phil. “Hug?”

Phil chuckled softly and hugged Dan. “You really like hugs, huh.”

Dan nodded against his shoulder and pulled back. He poked Phil's chest. “I like.” He nodded. “Phil. I like. Phil good.”

Phil blinked. “You like me?”

Dan grinned widely, his brown eyes bright and sparkling as he nodded eagerly. “I like.”

Phil hugged him so tightly that Dan let out a small, surprised squeak. “I'm sorry,” he whispered quietly, and his voice sounded choked. “I'm sorry, Dan.”

Dan pulled back in confusion, and Phil didn't even have the strength to look at him. “I–I'm not as good as you think I am. I . . . I'm not _good_ , Dan. I drink blood and eat meat like everyone else. I'm not–I'm not good, okay?” he mumbled tearfully, “You should hate me. I didn't help you because I was a good person. I helped you to make myself feel better. I helped so I could tell myself I did something good. I'm sorry.” Phil bit his lip. “I'm _bad_.”

Dan shook his head. “Phil good,” he said with a frown. “Phil give food.”

Phil blinked, and he suddenly burst into tear-filled laughter. He shook his head and wiped his eyes. “Oh, wow. Is that why you like me? Because I give you food?” he asked in amusement, but he wasn't expecting an answer. It was understandable why Dan would feel that way, and he didn't mind. “You're cute, Dan,” he said with a small chuckle.

Dan frowned. “I like. Phil good.”

“Okay. Okay.” Phil smiled. “I'm good. I got that.”

“Oh.” Dan nodded. “Okay.”

Phil huffed softly and stood up, holding out a hand. “Come on. You're hungry, right? I'll ask Ophelia to make something quickly,” he told Dan, remembering the scattered pieces of food on the floor.

Dan nodded eagerly. “Okay.”

~*~

“Master, your friend is here to see you,” Ophelia told him, glancing up at him.

Phil slowly descended the stairs and frowned. “Who is it?”

“Fox.” Ophelia gestured to the entrance gate.

Phil blinked in surprise and narrowed his eyes when Fox stepped into the room. “Yo.”

“H-hello.” Phil hesitated, glancing at Ophelia. She shrugged and turned, climbing the stairs and disappearing into the corridor. He always told her to tell his friends he wasn't home, but she never listened to him. He sighed and turned back to Fox reluctantly. “Er, what do you want?” he asked awkwardly and stared at his friend, Fox, who was standing in front of him with an odd smirk on his face.

It was probably better to call him an _acquaintance._ Fox was just a friend of a friend, and Phil couldn't recall the last time they had actually talked. He was an unusual guy, and there was always a bloodthirsty glint in his eyes. As far as Phil knew he was from a rich family, and he probably had a dozen human slaves in his father's mansion. He contemplated different possibilities, but he could not find the reason why he was here.

“Hey, Phil,” he greeted with a bright smile, “I just moved into a new place. Someone told me you live here so I came to see you.” He held up a plastic box. “I brought meat. Let's eat together. Do you have alcohol?”

“Moved in?” Phil arched an eyebrow. “Where?”

“Oh, I found an apartment in the town,” he said with an absent wave of his hand, walking in shamelessly without an invitation. “My parents are annoying. I wanted to try living alone.” He frowned a little.

“Oh.” Phil bit his lip hesitantly. It would be considered rude if he told Fox to leave. “Nice,” he muttered awkwardly.

Fox stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “How have you been?” he asked with a smirk, placing the box on the coffee table. “Your house smells really good.”

Phil clenched his jaw. “Ah. That's . . . I bought some high-quality meat the other day,” he lied through gritted teeth.

“Hm,” Fox nodded. “Well, it smells good. Would you like to share? I bought some too. Let's share.”

“No!” Phil blurted instantly and stepped back. He swallowed and amended, “No, er, no. I don't like sharing my food. It cost a lot of money. Sorry, I don't want to share.”

Fox arched an eyebrow. “Money is not a problem.” He glanced in the direction of Dan's room and inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut. “Ah, fuck. It smells so good. I've never smelled anything like this. It's wonderful.” He licked his lips. “It's the smell of sweet blood.” He looked up at Phil, his gaze sharp. “ _Rare_ blood.”

Phil's hands clenched tightly, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “Yeah. I bought rare blood.”

“You _bought_ rare blood?” Fox snorted and arched an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

Phil swallowed shakily. He knew it, but he had been trying to deny it. He couldn't admit it to himself. He smelled it every time he went near Dan. He could smell it in the air. The smell of Dan's blood. Sweet blood was so extremely rare that it was almost impossible to buy it. Phil didn't know why Dan's owner let him go. He was probably a demon with a weak nose. Only a demon with a strong sense of smell would be able to smell it, and no sane demon would give up someone with sweet blood. Phil had never tasted sweet blood, but he had heard several rumours. Sweet blood was the most delicious type of blood in the world, and just a whiff was enough to send anyone into a sexual rampage.

“Er, I'm actually a little busy,” Phil said awkwardly, “I don't feel like eating or drinking right now. I'm, uh, I'm tired. I'm sorry, but can you please leave?”

“Mm,” Fox shrugged, “Okay.” He grabbed the box nonchalantly. “Well, can I at least get some water?” He smiled. “My throat feels really dry all of a sudden.”

“Uh, yeah.” He turned. “Ophelia?” he called loudly and waited. Fox stood in front of him patiently. Minutes went by, but Ophelia didn't respond. Phil cleared his throat and yelled, “Ophelia!” He tapped his feet against the floor and glanced at Fox nervously. Every second felt like a decade, and the air was tense. Fox hummed with a smile, and Phil sighed heavily. “Sorry,” he muttered in embarrassment. “She probably didn't hear me.”

Fox shrugged. “It's fine.”

“Er,” Phil hesitated for a moment, but finally sighed. “Alright. I'll go get it. I'll be right back. Wait here.”

Phil turned away and walked to his kitchen, quickly grabbing a glass and filling it with water. His mind was full of thoughts, and his heart was heavy with guilt. He was always aware of Dan's lithe body. He was a demon after all. He couldn't deny that the smell of Dan's blood was thrilling, but he wasn't like Fox. He would never go out of control and hurt Dan. Maybe it would be quite exhilarating to taste Dan's sweet blood, but the idea of forcing him or touching him inappropriately disgusted him. He would never make Dan go through that again. He had never used a human for sexual pleasure before. He bought blood and meat like everyone else, but he had never touched a human. He had enough self-control to stop himself. He would never hurt Dan. He was sure of it.

Phil wandered back to the foyer with the glass of water in his hand and found it empty. He frowned, and he was about to check the front door when a loud scream penetrated the silence. He jerked back, dropping the glass in his hand. It shattered to pieces, and the water splattered across the floor. He whirled around with his heart pounding against his ribcage and ran up stairs and into Dan's room, his eyes wide and his chest full of terror. He pushed the door open and the sight in front of him made him tremble to his core with unbelievable rage.

“Oh, baby, don't be scared,” Fox cooed, his canines prominent as he licked his lips. “I don't intend to hurt you. I was just following the wonderful smell.” He sniffed the air. “Fuck. It smells so good.”

Dan was crouched on the floor with his hands pressed against his ears, and his eyes squeezed shut. He was shaking, and Phil's teeth clenched. He heaved with anger, and he didn't know what was happening to him. His canine teeth poked out of his mouth, and his nails turned to sharp claws. He stomped towards Fox, grabbing his shoulder and smashing him against the wall. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he hissed, glaring at Fox.

Fox held up his hands in defence. “Whoa, dude. Just wanted to know what you were hiding,” he said hastily. “Didn't plan to hurt him.” He inhaled deeply. “Man, he smells good though.”

“Get the fuck out, creep,” Phil hissed in fury, grabbing the collar of his T-shirt and throwing him to the floor.

“Damn. I'm leaving.” Fox frowned. His lips twitched, and he arched an eyebrow. “But . . . can I get some water?”

Phil smashed his hand against the wall, and Fox flinched. “Get. Out,” Phil choked out through gritted teeth, “Now.”

“Aw, man. You're no fun,” Fox chirped, rising to his feet and dusting his back. “I don't want to endanger my pretty face so I'll be going now.” He gave Phil a playful salute and turned away.

Phil heaved, and it was hard to control himself when all he wanted was to punch the stupid bastard in his stupid face. He waited impatiently until the sound of footsteps faded away and turned. His teeth returned to normal immediately, and he hurried to Dan's side. Dan was shaking badly, and Phil's heart clenched. He lowered himself to the floor and placed his hand on Dan's hair carefully. Dan trembled, and tears trailed down his cheeks. “I'm so sorry,” Phil choked out, cautiously wrapping his arms around Dan. “It's okay now. It's alright. I'm here.”

Dan sobbed and hiccuped, wailing like a lost child. Phil rubbed his back in a soothing manner, murmuring reassuring words and apologizing repeatedly. Phil was distraught with guilt. He should've been careful. He had promised Dan that he would be okay here, and he couldn't keep that promise. Phil's home was supposed to be a safe place for Dan, but due to Phil's naivety and carelessness, Dan was forced to remember terrible things. Phil hugged Dan and apologized over and over again. He sat there for a long time, and it took Dan a while to calm down. He cried for so long that he eventually slipped into sleep.

Phil picked him up with a heavy heart and placed him silently on the sofa, covering him tightly with a blanket and staring down at his tear-streaked face for a long time. “I'm sorry, Dan,” he whispered in a quiet voice. “I'm–I'm really really sorry. I'm sorry.”

There was a knock on the door, and Phil turned away silently, opening the door. Ophelia stepped back and gestured with her hand. Phil nodded wordlessly and stepped out to the hallway, closing the door and greeting Ophelia with a nod. “Did you need something?”

Ophelia shook her head. “No, I simply heard the commotion and wanted to know what had occurred,” she explained stalwartly, “I didn't want to disturb you so I was waiting for the boy to stop crying.”

Phil nodded. “Sorry for worrying you, but everything is alright. Dan is asleep.”

“I understand.” She nodded diligently. “You look a little pale. Would you prefer some meat?”

Phil's stomach turned. “No,” he answered immediately. Ophelia's eyes narrowed, and he quickly added, “Just some coffee, please.” He turned away swiftly and stepped towards his bedroom door. Ophelia cleared her throat loudly, and he glanced back reluctantly. “Yes?”

Ophelia held up her chin defiantly. “I apologize for being rude, Master, but how long are you planning on keeping the human boy?

Phil blinked in surprise and opened his mouth, closing it quietly and staring at the doorknob of his bedroom. He hesitated for a moment and asked, “Why?” He looked up. “Do you hate him, Ophelia?”

Ophelia looked a little surprised by the question. She furrowed her eyebrows pensively and sighed. “I do not hate anyone . . . but yes, I dislike him.”

“Why?”

Ophelia averted her eyes and huffed. “I do not have a reason. It is not the human boy's fault,” she said truthfully. “It is just the way I am.”

Phil smiled affectionately with a sigh. “Well, I'm not asking you to be his friend, but just don't be rude to him.”

Ophelia nodded. “Of course. As you wish.” She dropped her gaze to the floor sombrely, looking a little troubled and reluctant.

“You have something to say,” Phil stated knowingly. It wasn't a question.

Ophelia sighed softly and nodded. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Ophelia looked up, her expression unreadable. “Do you like him?”

Phil blinked in shock. He swallowed and averted his eyes hesitantly. “Yeah, I do,” he replied honestly. “I care about him.”

Ophelia looked extremely concerned for the first time, and it stunned Phil even more. She always wore a mask of indifference on her face. Nothing or no one could bother her. She was always stoic, polite and hard-working. He had never seen such an expression on her face. “Master,” she murmured worriedly.

“Yes,” Phil replied immediately. He was extremely curious to find out the reason behind her sudden concern.

Ophelia bit her bottom lip and paused for a fleeting moment. “We are creatures that live for hundreds–sometimes thousands of years. Compared to us, human lives are incredibly short. It will pass in the blink of an eye. I wouldn't recommend keeping him and getting attached to him. It will be painful, and I do not wish to see you in pain.”

Phil was stunned by her words. He had never thought about it, but it suddenly made sense. His heart sank slowly, but he managed to push his thoughts to the back of his mind. It didn't matter. This wasn't about himself. This wasn't about his pain. This was about Dan, and _only_ Dan. “Thank you, Ophelia,” he managed to whisper, “But I'm not concerned about myself. I will be fine. I have decided to help Dan. I made that choice, and I'm sure I won't regret it. I want Dan to enjoy the rest of his short life. That's all I want.” His determination made his heart strengthen, and he nodded to himself. “I will take care of him from now on. I will make sure he is happy.”

Ophelia stared at him for a small moment and smiled just a little. “I understand,” she told him, letting out a small huff. “You've grown up a lot. Your mother would be proud.”

Phil smiled and agreed, “Yeah.”

~*~

The next two months flew by way too quickly, and Phil spent most of his days with Dan. He looked forward to every new day, and he always went to sleep at night thinking about Dan. Dan had slowly begun to come out of his shell. He was still terrified of every little unfamiliar thing, but he was no longer afraid of stepping outside. Phil would take him out to the garden every day, and they would walk around smelling different flowers. They would walk through the fields or lie down in the sun, soaking up its warmth on cold, frozen days.

Sometimes, Dan would sit on the ground and stare up at the sky for a long long time, as if he couldn't believe it was real, that he was truly there. He would place his palms on the ground and feel the earth, and Phil would stand aside and watch and wait for him. Somehow, the garden had become Dan's favourite place. He would stay there until the sun was high up in the sky and the heat became too much to bear. They would go inside together. In the evening, Ophelia would bring tea and snacks, and Phil would tell Dan to write alphabets in an attempt to teach him to read and write. Sometimes, Dan would want to take a nap at noon, and sometimes, he would eat dinner early and go to sleep. Every day, Phil made him try something new, and every day, Dan reached a new milestone.

Things weren't perfect. In fact, Phil was tired all the time, but he enjoyed spending time with Dan. He loved to see Dan's smile. It was rare, but it was slowly starting to happen more often. He wanted to hear the sound of Dan's laugh one day, and he knew it was possible. Dan was slowly but _surely_ getting better.

“Master!”

Phil turned to notice Ophelia's furious face. “Ophelia–”

“What are you doing in the kitchen? I told you before–”

“P-phil.” Dan trembled behind him, dropping the potato he was holding in his hand and clinging to Phil's back.

Ophelia glanced at Dan and blinked. She cleared her throat and composed herself accordingly. “I apologize for being loud,” she admitted in a calm, quiet voice, “May I ask what exactly you're doing in the kitchen with the human–” Phil narrowed his eyes in disapproval and Ophelia amended, “I mean, with, erm, Dylan?”

“It's Dan.”

Ophelia nodded politely. “Ah, yes. I apologize, _Dean._ What are you doing in the kitchen with Dean?”

“It's _Dan_ , Ophelia.” Phil scowled.

“Yes. Please take Diego and get out of the kitchen,” Ophelia chastised, “The chefs are hiding because they are scared of you.”

Phil gave up on correcting her and sighed. “No, I'm trying to make Dan get used to things,” he explained, “Humans like cooking. Dan is a human. Dan probably likes cooking. Let me borrow the kitchen for a while.”

Ophelia sighed. “Master–”

“Ophelia,” Phil said in a serious voice, “I'm using the kitchen right now.”

Ophelia nodded. “I understand.”

Phil nodded back and watched Ophelia leave through the door. He sighed softly and held Dan's hand. “It's okay. She's gone.”

Dan opened his eyes slowly and looked around timidly, frowning at everything around him. Phil turned away. “Okay, where were we?” he asked rhetorically, grabbing the cutting board and carrots. “You were in charge of cutting the carrots. Can you do it?”

Dan nodded eagerly, and his eyes were bright and excited. “C-can.”

Phil smiled gently. “Okay. Just do it like I showed you.”

Dan nodded enthusiastically and held the knife tightly. He placed the carrot on the cutting board and slammed the knife on top of it. The carrot split into two pieces, and Dan looked up at Phil with wide, earnest eyes. Phil smiled and ruffled his hair. “Yeah, that's good.”

Dan's eyes lit up, and he nodded happily. “Good. Phil say good.” He stared at the carrot with awe in his gaze, and Phil let out a small, amused chuckle. He quietly watched as Dan slowly cut the carrot into several large pieces. He looked up eagerly when he was done, pointing at it brightly. “C-canrot.”

“Carrot,” Phil corrected and nodded. “Yup. That's how you do it. Can you cut the rest by yourself?”

Dan nodded his head hastily. “Can.”

Phil smiled, and Dan stared at him eagerly. “Pat?” he whispered earnestly, staring at Phil.

Phil bit his lip and brushed his hair, and Dan smiled, going back to cutting the carrots. Phil sighed fondly and turned to grab some more vegetables from the table, but before he could move, a small pained squeak interrupted him. He stilled almost instantly, halting in his tracks like a statue. A sweet, dizzying smell crowded his nose, and his hands trembled slightly. His eyes turned misty, and his vision blurred. He immediately knew something was wrong. He could feel the exhilaration and excitement rushing through his body. He stumbled, and his feet were unsteady. Somehow, he managed to turn, and the sight of blood dripping down Dan's finger made his heart drop down to the floor.

He gasped loudly, and his slippery hand grabbed on to the edge of the table to steady himself. There was something wrong about the situation. Something was happening to him. Something that had never happened before. He could smell it in the air, the distinct smell of rare sweet blood. His stomach filled with butterflies, and he could feel his canines fighting to come out. His nails turned into claws, and he could feel his erection throbbing in his pants. He wheezed and his neck snapped back to Dan to notice his long limbs and pale shoulders and a neck so slender that it would fit perfectly in his fist.

“Oh, f-fuck,” he wheezed helplessly, clutching his chest desperately when he realised what was happening. He grasped his throat and inhaled deeply, breathing heavily as he desperately tried to control his intense urges. He had never taken advantage of a human. He had survived all of his life by buying blood and drinking it alone in his bedroom. He had never felt any desire to hunt a human, but seeing naked skin and oozing blood was awakening the dormant desires he had kept hidden deep within him. “D-dammit,” he choked out, collapsing back against a wall. “Oph–Ophelia. Ophe . . .” His throat closed up, and he couldn't speak.

Dan stared at him with those wide, innocent eyes, looking a little scared and confused. He stepped closer. “P-phil?”

Phil growled loudly, glaring at Dan. He heaved, and he wanted to tell Dan to stay away, but he couldn't feel his tongue. He wanted to scream at Dan to leave. He wanted to call Ophelia, but his body was not listening to him. He could feel himself moving. He hissed and displayed his sharp teeth. His feet carried him forward, and Dan seemed to have sensed the danger. The knife dropped to the floor, and Dan backed away, his knees trembling slightly. He whimpered, and Phil loved that noise. Dan looked like a scared little animal, and Phil wanted to poke it, kick it and hurt it. He heaved and growled, and his innate desires rose to the surface. He stepped towards Dan slowly, cautiously, sniffing the air and taking in that sweet sweet fragrance.

Phil's mouth quivered, and his eyes were focused on Dan sharply. He trapped Dan between himself and the wall, and watched with satisfaction as Dan trembled violently and covered his head. He took a deep, deep breath and closed his eyes, letting out a soft moan. He grabbed the collar of Dan's T-shirt and buried his nose in Dan's neck, inhaling deeply. The smell was intoxicating, surrounding him with an arousing haze. He wrapped his arm around Dan and pulled him closer. Dan whimpered and shook violently, and it sent a terrifying thrill down his spine.

Through the haziness and madness, clarity returned to him for a split second, and he remembered his promise. He tried to cling on to that single thought and pull away, but the invigorating smell had already captured him. He wanted Dan to stay away, but he wanted Dan to come closer. He didn't want to hurt Dan, but at the same time, Dan was so beautiful, and his blood smelled so delicious, he never wanted to let go of Dan. He stared at Dan's innocent face, and he suddenly wanted to _bite bite bite_ and tear and thrust and pull and dig his claws into Dan's flesh until Dan was writhing and panting and aching and screaming and bleeding on the floor. He wanted to tear Dan into pieces. He wanted to _ruin_ Dan. He wanted to hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and–

“It okay.”

Phil stilled and looked at Dan. Dan was shaking so badly that he had collapsed to the floor. His fingers were grasping Phil's pants tightly, and he stared up at Phil with tears on his cheeks. “It okay,” he repeated in a shaky, whispering voice, “P-phil g-good. It okay.”

Phil's heart slammed into his throat, and his thoughts were running wildly. He dropped to the floor and grabbed Dan's shoulder, his canines ready to bite any minute. Dan squeezed his eyes shut, and Phil heaved, stopping himself. His mind screamed at him, and he growled loudly, slamming his hand against the wall near Dan's head. _Bite him. Bite him. Bite him. Bite him. Bite him. Bite him. Bite him. Bite him! Bite him! Bite HIM!_

Phil wheezed. “S-shut up!” he screamed, and in a moment of overwhelming panic, he slammed his arm into his mouth, biting harshly. His canine teeth sunk into his skin and he cried out in pain, panting heavily. His mind immediately cleared, and he inhaled deeply, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He kicked the wall and managed to push himself away from Dan, crawling away to put distance between himself and Dan. He slammed his head back repeatedly against the wall and tried to get rid of the horrible thoughts that had invaded his head.

“Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down–” he mumbled repeatedly like a mantra, biting his arm harder.

It took several minutes, almost an hour, for Phil to stop wheezing and calm down. He squeezed his eyes shut and sat with his head resting back against the wall. Dan didn't come near him or disturb him. He sat a little away from Phil, his knees pressed to his chest as he stared at Phil with a timid gaze quietly for a long time without saying anything.

Eventually, Phil stopped shaking, and his thoughts untangled. The veil of fuzziness lifted from his eyelids, and his focus returned, but he couldn't bring himself to look at Dan. He slowly regained awareness and compassion, and a wave of shame washed over him. He was extremely ashamed of himself and his behaviour. He was embarrassed by his reactions and his disgusting thoughts. His arm had healed itself, but he was still in a state of shock. Silence screamed in his ears, and he couldn't believe how easily he had lost control of himself. He suddenly realised how dangerous it was for Dan to be near someone like him. He should tell Dan to stay away from him. He should lock himself up in his room for all of eterni–

Phil looked up with a surprised blink when he felt Dan's presence near him. Dan stared down at him, his eyes filled with tears. Phil's chest tightened, and he bit his lip shamefully. “D-dan . . .” he murmured shakily, staring up at Dan.

Dan leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Phil. “Hug.”

Phil stilled in shock, and tears immediately blurred his vision. Dan placed his hand on Phil's head and patted him. “It okay,” he told Phil, “Hug good. Hug warm. It okay.”

Phil's stomach dropped, and he wrapped his arms around Dan, burying his face into Dan's chest and letting out a small sob. “I'm so sorry,” he choked out, “I'm sorry.”

“It okay.”

Phil sniffed. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Dan. I'm so sorry. I–I was–I hurt you. I'm sorry.”

Dan pulled back with a frown on his face. Phil looked up with a sniff, and Dan gently grasped Phil's hand. “I not hurt,” he told Phil determinedly, “Phil hurt.”

“But I almost hurt–”

Dan shook his head, and his eyebrows furrowed. He opened and closed his mouth, biting his lip and looking as if he were thinking hard about something. “B-but . . . Phil did–did not . . . ” he managed to whisper. “Phil good. I–I like Phil. Phil give food.”

Phil clenched his jaw, and the lump in his throat was painful. He pulled Dan into a tight, squeezing hug. “I'm really sorry,” he choked out, “I made you cry. I scared you. I'm sorry.” He sniffed. “It's okay. It's alright if you want to leave. I won't stop you, Dan. It's okay if you can't trust me anymore. It's okay.” Phil bit his bottom lip and hugged Dan closely. “I–I will protect you from now on. I will take care of you. I'll treasure you. I swear to god I will never ever make this mistake again.” His chest tightened. “Will you–will you give me another chance?”

Dan nodded. “It okay.”

Phil's throat hurt, but he had something important to tell Dan. “I will _never_ try to hurt you ever again. I will protect you and cherish you. I–I will try to make you happy. I'll do anything. I'm sorry.”

Phil didn't have any magical powers to go back in time and change Dan's past. He couldn't change what he had done and how he had reacted. No matter how much he denied it and regretted it, it was still a part of him. He was a demon, and he couldn't change that. He couldn't go back and change it, but he could always protect Dan's future. He was not a hero, but he was determined to save Dan.

Dan pulled back silently, and his lips twitched up into a small, genuine smile. He placed his palm on Phil's cheek and whispered, “Thank you, Phil.”

~*~

_“Master. You should come inside. It's late.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Are you alright? You've been staring at the garden all day.”_

_“I . . . I don't know.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Ophelia.”_

_“Yes?”_

_“You were right, Ophelia. Human lives are short indeed.”_

_~*~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic took me a long time to write for some reason. I kept getting distracted, but I'm glad I was able to finish it. I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading :)


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